title: Suum Cuique
players: Gilbert Beilschmidt/Prussia, Hilde Beilschmidt/Germany
summary: (Nyotalia AU) Prussia says goodbye to his sister after the war.
a/n: In 1947, Prussia was officially abolished, although it had been effectively abolished in ‘32. It had begun to lose its identity in the late 1800s, so now the general idea is Prussia = Germany, which is not true.
After WWII, West Prussia was taken by Poland. The Reichdeutsche and Volksdeutche are the German nationals and ethnic Germans who moved to postwar Germany and Austria in the five or so years after the war ended. It was the largest population movement in modern history. The expulsion of the Germans from former territories is the largest Europe’s seen. Many died.
It seems the worst fear was Soviet occupation. They were rather nasty to Germans. Entire books have been written just about the numerous rapes of German women and girls by Red Army soldiers.
Expellees were settled in camps rather similar to the concentration camps the Nazis used, although some were just bad off due to rations and the sheer numbers of people there.
"Suum cuique" is a Latin phrase meaning "to each his own" or "to each what he deserves."
The war was over. The Allied Powers had won, and Adolf Hitler, Fuehrer of Germany, was dead. Brunhilde stood at a window in the hall of her home, staring through the filthy glass at the Baltic Sea.
“Hilde.” Strangely silent, her brother walked to her side and touched her arm. “Are you alright?”
She smiled faintly. “It just feels so weird to be in civilian clothes… particularly a dress.” Her fingers played with the hem of her blouse sleeve.
“It looks good on you.” That was partly a lie. She belonged in a military uniform. Being a Nazi officer had kept her in good health, however, and her figure filled out the simple dress very well. “But I brought you something.” He offered a black box that he had hidden behind his back.
“What is it?”
“Open it an see.” Lifting the lid, Hilde’s hand paused before finally removing the lid completely and gazing at the thing inside.
“It’s your Iron Cross.” The ribbon was black with two thin, white bands, the colours of Prussia. A “FW” for King Frederick William III and “1813” was annotated on the medal. Hilde’s own Iron Cross had a black, white, and red ribbon, and the cross itself bore a swastika. It was hidden to stay safe.
She held the Prussian medal up in the dim light, admiring the condition. Gilbert took the medal from her fingers and pinned it at the third button of her blouse. ”I wanted you to have it. I don’t need it where I’m going.”
“Danke, Bruder…” Unexpectedly, she hugged her brother around his neck, committing the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his returned hug to memory. “Will you write to me?”
“… I will try.” He pulled back and touched her face. “Take care of the Reichdeutsche and Volksdeutche.”